


Turned

by Dellessa



Series: Night Cycle Verse [4]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Attempted Rape, Grooming, M/M, Sticky Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:59:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you alone, little one?” the mech’s voice was soft.     </p><p>He did not realize he was not alone until the other one spoke, startling him. He let out a little, undignified yelp, scrambling away. He froze as the mech stood out into the dim light, optics bright. “W-w-who are you?” the mechling asked, his voice spitting static.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turned

**Title:** Turned  
 **Author(s):** Dellessa  
 **Verse:** G1 AU (with a dash of IDW) (very, very AU. XD)  
 **Series:** Night Cycle Verse  
 **Rating:** M  
 **Warnings:** Attempted Non con. Violence. Minor Character Death. Grooming.  
 **Pairings/Characters:** Megatron/Orion Pax. Later: Orion/Rodimus  
 **Notes:** Not mine!!!  <3 Advent Day 12! =D  
 **Prompt:** Sequel to Recreated.  
 **Words:** 7328  
  
Rodimus stood on tip-ped, looking out the window. Acid rain dripped down the surface, scarring the metaliglass as is wended its way down. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass. He hated it here, but it was the only world he had ever known. He could not recall his creator’s faceplates no matter how hard he tried, the files were corrupted, just vague shadows and whispered voices. He missed them regardless, and resented his place in the foundling’s home. The mechlet offlined his optics for a moment and wished he could escape. There was little enough hope here. He was old enough to realize that at best he would be sent to one of the labor camps, or just as bad a life of servitude. He had no one to sponsor him to go to the academy.  
  
He hugged himself tightly, blinking his optics hard as cleaning fluid built up and threatened to spill over. Days like this were far beyond the worse. he could not even escape outside to forget his problems for a few joors time.  
  
“Rodimus, what are you doing there?” Kup’s tired voice came from behind him.  
  
The small red mechlet turned, shifting from ped to ped. “Nothing, sir. I finished my chores early,” he said, shifting again nervously as though expecting a reprimand.  
Kup smiled kindly, putting a hand on the mechling’s neckplating. “That’s good, Roddi. Why don’t you help me get the cubes ready. It’s nearly time for refueling.”    
  
Rodimus followed the old bot to the refueling station, casting one fleeting glance at the window before the went through the doorway.  
  
The cycle passed as so many before it had. Full of tedium. Rodimus helped Kup with the preparation for the other younglings refueling, and the cleanup afterwards. The evening seemed to pass in a haze with Rodimus going through the motions. Finally when it was all done he slipped away to find his own berth. It was small, cramped, and far too hard, leaving his still soft armour feeling bruised when he finally came out of recharge at the beginning of the day cycle.  
  
It was not something that Rodimus thought he would ever be accustomed to. He always hurt, and he was always hungry. The rations they were given only barely enough to function on. Few mechs thought they deserved more, and certainly no one in power.  


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
It was well into the dark cycle, Hadeen not even a distant memory on the horizon when Rodimus slipped out of the foundling house. The caretakers and long since turned in, not long after the younglings had slipped into recharge themselves. Recharge evaded Rodimus, though. He was restless, and had felt off for far too long. There was a constant tingle at the back of his neck, the feeling he got whenever someone stared at him. He had felt like this for cycles on end, although it was not constant. The days were free of the feeling, but at dark cycle it would come with a vengeance, and it seemed to trigger the night terrors as well.  
  
The dark night’s sky made him relax though. He carefully climbed up to the roof top, and pulled out the rucksack he had long since hidden under the eaves. The mesh inside was old, but it worked well enough to lay down on and watch the stars pass by. He searched out the constellation: Prima, the turbofox, Solus Prime’s forge...  
  
Kup had shown them to him when he was small, taking him up to that very roof. It was one of the few good memories Rodimus had. He kept it close, holding it against his spark.  
  
“Are you alone, little one?” the mech’s voice was soft.       
  
He did not realize he was not alone until the other one spoke, startling him. He let out a little, undignified yelp, scrambling away. He froze as the mech stood out into the dim light, optics bright. “W-w-who are you?” the mechling asked, his voice spitting static.  
  
“I am Orion,” the mech said, kneeling in front of Rodimus until they were optic to optic. “Come here, child.”  
  
Rodimus regarded the mech with dismay, but found his body obeying nonetheless. He felt as if he were a puppet and the other mech was pulling his strings. A little whine escaped his vocalizer. He found himself stopping in front of the other mech, shaking hard by then. “Please don’t hurt me,” his little voice bit out.  
  
Orion smiled kindly, “I would not do that, little one, I promise,”  and offered his hand out, as if he was trying to coax a wild thing closer. “Would you like to come away with me?”  
  
Rodimus backed away, optics wide, he turned dashing away only to be scooped up into the strange mech’s arms. He struggled, but it was little good, he could not budge the creature’s arms. He finally gave up, energy spent, and hung limply in Orion’s arms.  
  
“I would never hurt you, not intentionally,” Orion whispered. Their fields harmonized, synchronizing as if they had always been together. He wondered if this was how Megatron felt when he found him, and then sighed at the thought at the long years that stretched before them. It would be vorns before any of his plans would come to fruition. A frustrating thought at best, but he had no other option but to let the mechling grow up. He held onto the small chassis tightly as he dropped off the side of the roof, landing nimbly on the ground he made his way in the dark, his spark feeling lighter than it had in vorns.  
  
Megatron stared when he finally arrived at their underground lair. “What is that? Orion,” the grey bot sounded exasperated.  
  
“A mechlet, obviously,” Orion said, placing him on the berth.  
  
“You can’t just---Orion,” Megatron frowned, glaring. “You cannot just go about stealing sparklings. Bots will notice. I’m sure he has family, you must take him back.”  
  
Orion gave him a stubborn glare. “You act as though I run about the countryside stealing sparklings from their beds. No one will miss this one, he was in the foundlings home, has no family. He deserves one,” Orion vented, taking Rodimus’ small hand in his own. “And one day when he is old enough...”  
  
Megatron pulled a face. It was not unheard of. It was also not something he had ever done. Orion had been long grown before he had found him, but had it been before he would not have hesitated to kidnap him. In many ways it made the change easier. The fledglings were not thrust into a way of life alien to them. “Fine. If you must. Just...tread carefully.”  
  
Orion laughed, “I will. When do I not?” Orion murmured, watching Rodimus begin to stir.  
  
Bright blue optics onlined, and looked about, fear weighing heavily on his features. His lower lip quivered, “Where am I?”  
  
“You are home,” Orion said firmly.  
  
“No, I’m not,” Rodimus whimpered, inching away from the mech. “Take me back. Please.”  
  
“I’m sorry, sweetspark, I just cannot do that. They cannot keep you safe like I can,” Orion said, tilting the small bots head up to look him in the optics.  
  
“Kup will look for me,” Rodimus said stubbornly.  
  
“I’m sure he will, but he will not look long,” Orion said, frowning. The old bot did care, but there was so many sparklings to care for. “I am sorry, Rodimus. I will do my best to make you happy here. I can promise you that at least. You will never want for anything,” Orion fished a cube of energon from his subspace and offered it to the mechling. He wasn’t surprised at the suspicious look the youngling gave him, nor the way he snatched away the cube. Orion watched him drink it down. “Not so fast. You will make yourself ill,” he murmured.  
  
Rodimus was small for his age and frame type. There was no doubt in Orion’s mind that the little bots growth was already stunted. Even with all the care they could provide he never would gain the height he should have had had things been different. Orion counted the small blessings. The youngling’s armour, at least, was not compromised.  
  
Rodimus whimpered, clutching the cube to his chest. “I want to go home.”  
  
Orion ignored the demand. “You can stay in the spare berthroom for now. Come along,” he said, offering his hand.  
  
Rodimus looked at him, stubbornly holding his hands against his chest. Orion stared back, not moving. The little bot wavered as the kliks went by and Orion did not move. He finally placed his hand lightly in Orion’s.  
  
“Good,” Orion smiled, and finally led the small bot away.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
Cycles turned into decaclycles, and before Rodimus knew it a metacycle had passed and he was still stuck down far below the city. Rodimus curled up on his berth, fighting recharge as much as he could. He had tried to run away twice and had not gotten far. He missed Kup, and the stars. He had not been outside since Orion had taken him down into the catacombs. On the other servo, his tank no longer rumbled constantly in hunger. The room he had been given was far larger that the one he had shared with six other sparklings at the foundlings home, and the berth was softer than anything he had felt in his short life.     
  
Despite himself it was starting to feel like home. He climbed off the berth, to the living area, knowing that Orion and Megatron had not left yet. He did not entirely know what to make of the gunmetal grey mech. He towered over even Orion. He spoke gruffly, and for the most part ignored Rodimus. The little ‘bot wasn’t sure how to feel about it, truthfully. Any of it. Orion seemed nice, but he also wouldn't let him go. At best Rodimus was confused.  
  
He ran at the first chance he got. Slipping out the door that Orion had forgotten to lock behind him. He wandered through the tunnels for a long time before finally emerging to the lower street levels. It was dark, and not an area Rodimus recognized.  
  
For the first time he wondered if he had not made a mistake. A little whimper escaped his glossa, and he finally started walking, picking a direction at random. There were few lights on the street, leaving large pools of darkness.  
  
He felt optics on him but did not dare stop. His pedfalls quickened. Even then a heavy hand settled on his shoulder, whirling him around, and knocking him down to the ground.  
  
“What do we have here?” the large bot said looming over Rodimus.  
  
The youngling whimpered, “Leave me alone.” He scuttled away only to be grabbed.  
  
“I don’t think I will,” the mech leered, his hands scuttled along Rodimus’ chassis, stopping at the junction between his legs, digging into the seam.  
  
Rodimus wailed, it was cut off in surprise as the mech was ripped away from him. He offlined his optics at the first spray of mechblood that splattered across his chest plates. Rodimus curled into himself, hiding his face against his kneeplates. He could still hear the mech screaming, the sickening sound of metal buckling, and Orion’s calm voice even as he tore the mech apart. The mech was reduced to a pile of scrap by the time Orion was done, his optics still glowing a ruby red as he turned his attention to Rodimus.  
  
Rodimus stayed where he was, watching Orion. The blue slowly faded back to his optics and finally he kneeled before the youngling, and Pulling Rodimus to his chest. “Oh, you little scraplet, I thought I had lost you,” Orion said, his voice on the verge of hysteria. “I was so scared.”  
  
Rodimus was limp in Orion’s arms, listening to him him cry before slowly hugging him back. He was not entirely sure he understood, but he also did not like the obvious pain in Orion’s voice. “I’m sorry,” his voice came out small, and uncertain causing Orion to lean away from him and look at the younglings face.  
  
“No---don’t. You were scared and I have never explained myself very well.” His optics flicked to the mess he had left and frowned. “I do not think this is the place for it, though. How about we go home, I fix you a cube of energon and we will talk.” Orion offered his hand, and watched the emotions flow across the little mech’s features before he finally placed his hand in Orion’s.  
  
The walk back to the catacombs was mostly silent. Rodimus felt shell shocked. He had never seen a mech die before. Not like that anyway. He had seen dead mechs, but they had just been grey shells, not bits and pieces and flowing energon. It should have scared him, some part of his processor informed him. He should have run from Orion. Instead he found himself walking beside the red and blue mech in a daze. It was almost a relief when they passed through the hidden door and into their home. It was warm and cozy compared to the streets above. Safe.    
  
If was only then, when his attention was taken from the walk that he noticed the smeared energon across his frame. He let out a high-pitched shriek. Hysteria overwhelming his processor. “Get it off. Get it off.”  
  
“Shhh....” Orion tried to calm him, but Rodimus’ screams only grew louder.  
  
Megatron stomped in, taking in the scene and their energon splattered frames with a frown. “I...am not even going to ask,” he said, pushing them both towards the washracks. Orion held Rodimus while the pool filled with water. Megatron had pushed him to sit on the edge, giving him a warning look not to move.  
  
Both ‘bots looked recalcitrant as Megatron scrubbed down their plating, treating them both like errant younglings.  
  
“Do you want to tell me what all of this is about?” Megatron rumbled.  
  
Rodimus’ lower lip quivered. “I ran, and this ‘bot tried to...” He started crying all over again.  
  
Orion glared over the little bot’s head at Megatron. “I’m sure you can guess the rest.”     
  
“I’m sure,” Megatron agreed, slipping into the water beside them. “You do know, we would never do that to you, right?”  
  
Rodimus met his gaze, and nodded after a moment. “I---I---you’ve never touched me like that.”  
  
“And we never will. Not like that. Orion wants to make you his fledgeling, like he is mine, but that will be a long way off, when you are a grown-mech, and it will be your choice. If you chose not to become one of us, we will help you start a new life elsewhere.”  
  
“Promise?” Rodimus voice quavered.  
  
“Cross my spark and hope to die,” Orion said, lip-plates curling into a smile.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
It was late in the night cycle before they finally tucked Rodimus away in his berth, Orion pressing a kiss to the top of his helmet. Rodimus fell into an uneasy recharge, which was interrupted only joors later.  
  
Rodimus awoke from the flux, his spark quaking and his vents heaving madly. He could still see that horrible mech’s face if he outlined his optics. It left him shaking and distraught. He climbed off of the berth and went to the one place he knew he would be safe. Neither Orion, nor Megatron stirred when he opened the door and slipped in, climbing in between them, he knew something was not right. Orion’s comforting field did not pulse around him. The frames were... cold.  
  
A little bubble of hysteria hiccupped out of Rodimus. “Orion?” He pulled at the inert bots frame, whimpering when there was no response. They had left him too. He was alone again. He wiggled until he was in the crook of Orion’s arm. His cheek plate pressed against Orion’s side as the steady drip of lubricant tears flowed across them. A sob escaped his lips, and then another until his vocalizer was only spitting static. He finally fell into an exhausted recharge, still clinging to Orion.  
  
It was groons later when Orion came out of his daily dose of oblivion. He immediately knew something was not right. The little warm body pressed against him was not the normal run of things, nor the fear and sorrow dancing across the little ones field even in his recharge.  
  
“Rodimus,” Orion crooned, pulling the little ‘bot into his arms.  
  
The little red ‘bots optics onlined, flaring bright for a moment. “’Rion.” He whimpered, throwing his arms around Orion’s nech. Clinging tightly. “You weren’t here.”  
  
Orion rubbed the little ‘bot’s back, holding him tightly. “Oh, sweetspark, I’m sorry I scared you.” He rocked the ‘bot until he finally relaxed against him. “I’m here, I promise. I’m sorry I scared you.”  
  
“I had a horrible flux,” Rodimus finally whispered.  
  
“And I’m sure what happened after didn’t help. I’m sorry. I should have warned you. I just didn’t think, little one.”  
“And then I thought you were offlined...like...like that ‘bot.” Rodimus whimpered again, hiding his face against Orion’s shoulder.  
  
Orion sighed, catching Megatron’s raised brow plate.  
  
Megatron raised his hands in surrender, letting Orion take care of this mess.  
  
Orion rolled his optics, holding the youngling close. “You understand that we are not like you?” He finally asked, pulling a mesh rag from his subspace and wiping at Rodimus’ cheekplates. “Hadeen makes us weak, and lethargic. As long as it is up in the sky we will sleep. I know it was disconcerting for you.”  
  
Rodimus’ lower lip quivered, and his optics threatened to spill over again.    
  
“I know you were scared, and I’m sorry for it, tenderspark, but it cannot be helped,” Orion said patiently, nuzzling into Rodimus’ helm.  
  
Rodimus vented softly, curling against Orion, his venting evened out, and the silence stretched out. A breem went by before Orion realized the exhausted, little ‘bot had long since fallen into recharge.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
The cycles passed and life fell into an odd sort of rhythm for the mechling and the vampires.  
Rodimus crept down the hallway(as he had so many days before), slipping into Orion and Megatron’s berthroom. He crawled across the berth, slipped under the thermal blanket, and wiggled and squirmed until there was enough space between them, and promptly fell into recharge himself. Once Orion had explained things to him it wasn’t nearly as scary. They’d wake up when the dark cycle rolled around. Megatron would be annoyed, but Orion would give him hugs and cuddles, which were really worth a thousand of Megatron’s scowls and rumbling grumbles.  
  
Megatron was up first, frowning, and shooting daggers at the mechling with his optics. Rodimus just snuggled in closer to Orion, he was more than halfway sprawled across the red and blue mech’s chest. Neither seemed to be moving anywhere anytime soon.  
  
He stared at the pair for a klik, wondering if it would be possible to wake Orion up and shoo the youngling away, but he knew better. It anything it would put Orion in a foul mood. The mech was always a bit crabby upon rising, a thing Megatron never quite understood as Orion otherwise had the sweetest disposition.  
  
The gunmetal grey mech shrugged, resigning himself for feeding for the both of them. It wouldn't be the first time, and no doubt would not be the last. He couldn't even say that it was something he minded, not when it came to Orion.  
  
He slipped out of their lair, making sure to lock everything up tight before heading out into the darkened streets above. For such a big mech he moved silently, slipping through the back streets, and blending into the shadows. The first mech he fed from he left dazed in a dark alley, thinking he had passed out there, the second was stumbling out of an energon bar when Megatron led him away, and the third a prostitute handing out on an ill lit corner. He was stalking after a fourth when he finally felt Orion’s mind brush against his own.  
  
::Megatron? Where are you?:: Orion’s query was more amused than anything.  
  
::Picking up...dinner, my love. I will be back soon enough.:: In truth he felt full to bursting.  
  
::I see...:: Orion’s reply was coloured in amusement.  
  
Megatron wasted little time making his way back to the labyrinth below, where he found Orion and Rodimus waiting. He could not hold back the chuckle the left his vocalizer. They were sitting just inside the door, waiting expectantly. He pulled a cube out of his subspace, and a box full of gelled energon. The look on Rodimus’ faceplates made it well worth the effort.  
  
He made sure Rodimus was fueling before he took Orion in hand. Opening a line in his neck he held his red and blue lover close, Orion’s pleasure echoed through his field and rebounded back, leaving them both shaking with pleasure.  
  
Megatron’s optics slid over to Rodimus’ noting the mechling’s distraction he tugged Orion away with the single-minded thought of having his way with his mate.  
  
Orion let himself be pulled through the hall and pushed down on the berth. His fields flared, giddy and more than half-overcharged with the energon from Megatron’s lines. He arched and begged underneath Megatron’s claws. His whimpered and screams muffled by the elder vampire’s mouth, until the both lay together, sated.  
  
He almost laughed, when Rodimus finally found them, breems later, flinging himself onto the berth heedless of the heat still rising from the chassis, and the pinging metal.  
  
Laugher did roll from Orion’s lips at the disgruntled grunt that left Megatron’s vocalizer.  
Rodimus gave Orion a suspicious look, but curled against him anyway.  


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
Megatron sat back, and watched Orion read to Rodimus, the mechling had been with them for the better part of a stellar cycle. Sometimes it seemed like he had always been with him.  
  
They made an odd sort of family. Even he could see that, but the youngling seemed to be something Orion needed. He could accept that.  
  
He had fed enough for both of them, and had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time. He couldn't even bring it in himself to be bothered by any of the trouble the youngling was causing. Not when he made Orion so very happy.  
  
The two had their helms pressed together talking quietly. Giggling like two little sparklings about to get up to some kind of mischief, and really they probably were. He had come to realize in the stellar cycle that the youngling had come to stay with them he was always up to something and servo deep in mischief.  
  
Megatron found, much to his own chagrin...that he did not mind.  
  
Nor was he entirely surprised that Rodimus seemed to lead Orion around straight in to said trouble. It has made life very, very interesting, and certainly a great deal louder. He didn’t even want to imagine what a heard of the things would sound like. Although, he had a suspicion that had Orion been mortal he would have wanted just that. It pained Megatron’s spark that he could not give that one thing to his mate. He tucked the pain deep. It wasn’t something Orion ever brought up, and Megatron was not one to poke at wounds, least of all this kind.  
  
“Credit for your thoughts?” Orion asked, lips curling into a little smile.  
  
“It’s nothing,” Megatron said, crossing the distance between them. He sat back on Orion’s other side, letting their fields mingle and the bond between them flare open. It was more telling than any words could ever be.  
  
Orion’s lips quirked up into a bigger smile, “I love you too.”  


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
A half a vorn passed before it was finally time for the youngling to get his first upgrade since being brought to live with the vampires. He felt awkward in his chassis for cycles afterwards. Cross and tired he didn’t even protest the number of datapads that Orion assigned for him to read, and for once even settled in to do it curled up in one of the chairs scattered about the living area.  
  
He read until he fell into recharge, half-slumped in the chair, clutching the datapad to him as if it was one of his stuffed turbo foxes. Which was how Megatron found him groons later. Megatron was usually at best hard pressed to know what to do with the youngling. Still he could not help but smile fondly as he picked the little ‘bot up and took him to his berthroom. He tucked Rodimus in under the the thermal blankets, and stacked the datapads on the little desk in the corner.  
  
He stepped back, watching Rodimus’ slack features as he recharged. He knew, after living with them for so long that the little ‘bot never questioned Orion’s love for him. He was, however, much more standoffish when it came to Megatron. The gunmetal grey bot was not entirely surprised, he knew he was not as approachable as his diminutive mate. It wasn’t necessarily in his nature to be nurturing, but somewhere along the way the youngling had wormed his way firmly into Megatron’s spark. He vented softly, lost enough in his processor that he did not hear Orion creep up beside him, until he slid his small hand into Megatron’s own.  
  
::I didn’t realize he would grow so fast.:: Megatron’s mind touched Orion’s, unwilling to voice the words aloud and wake the sleeping youngling. Rodimus was well into his youngling stage, closer to a teenbot than a sparkling at this point. He was still all gangly limbs and endearingly wide optics.  
  
Orion leaned against Megatron. ::So fast, and frustratingly slow,:: Orion agreed. ::He’s worth the wait. More than worth the effort.:: Rodimus always tried so very hard to please, as if he thought he had to work for their love.    
  
::I can see that, love,:: Megatron replied in turn, and found that it was true at this point. He really could. Before Rodimus he had never considered adding a third to their bond, now it just seemed a given. Rodimus oddly seemed to complete them both, and bring out the best in both of them...not that he was willing to admit it out loud even if he had long since come to that conclusion. The amused flare from Orion’s side of the bond told him that his mate knew, even if he would not say it, and was amused by Megatron’s stubbornness.  
  
::It will all work out,:: Orion declared, ever the optimist, and in this Megatron desperately hoped that he was right.  


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
Time passed, and before they knew it Rodimus was inching closer and closer to his final upgrade. One more to go. At this point he was hovering on the verge of adulthood, and joined the hunt with them far more often than he stayed at home.  
  
Rodimus stood in the lone pool of light in the otherwise inky darkness. It wasn’t the best part of Iacon, far from it, but as Orion pointed out that was some of the best hunting grounds. Rodimus wasn’t going to dispute that. Nor the fact that the hunt was so much quicker when he played the role of bait. He shifted, limbs aching duly, reminding him that in a matter of days he would get another upgrade. He made himself focus on the task at hand, a teasing smile inched onto his faceplates as the mech sidled up to him. It wasn’t the first time he played the prostitute, nor could he imagine that it would be the last. Orion railed against it, not surprisingly. He was not nearly as practical about such things as Megatron, or in this case Rodimus.  
  
Rodimus pressed himself against the bot, simpering. Holding out a hand, and catching the credit chip the mech dropped into his hand. He tucked it away, and let the bot lead him into the alley behind the street corner.  
  
The mech pushed him into the wall hard enough to make Rodimus gasp, and cry out. The sound was muffled as their lips met. The mech kissed him hard, leaving him tasting energon. Rodimus pushed at the bot, and was halfway towards grabbing the energon blade he had concealed in a thigh sheath. Instead the bot was ripped away from him leaving him gasping and leaning heavily against the wall to get his balance back. Orion caught him before he fell over, hiding Rodimus’ face against his chest.  
  
“Are you okay?” Orion asked softly, paying no mind to where Megatron fed on the bot deeper in the darkened alley.  
  
Rodimus clung to him, venting stuttering. “Yeah, he just surprised me, that’s all.” He glanced past Orion to where Megatron was letting the bot drop to the alley floor. His armour still bright. They rarely took a life these days. Megatron humoured Orion in that at least. The bot would wake hours later with no memory of them, or what had happened, just of a prostibot he took in an alley, nameless and indistinct.  
  
Orion smoothed a hand down Rodimus’ plating, already fretting. “Are you sure?”    
  
Rodimus whined, “I’m fine.” Sometimes he found the read and blue mech unbearably frustrating. Megatron was much more straightforward, and easier to understand. He respected that. It didn’t make him love Orion any less, it just left him frustrated...in so many ways.  
  
Orion ran a hand over the edge of his winglet, humming. “He dented you.”    
  
Rodimus shivered, pressing into Orion’s touch. A little moan left his vocalizer before he could stop it.  
  
“Time to go,” Megatron said, interrupting.  
  
They followed the large mech out, heading towards the closest entrance to the underground. Rodimus hung back, running hot and more than a little frustrated. His interface protocols had finally come online two deca-cycles ago. It had been the least pleasant cycles he had spent with his caretakers. While Rodimus had expected Orion to be overjoyed, this was what they had been waiting on after all. But no. Orion wanted to wait until he had his last upgrade, and annoyingly enough...Megatron had backed him up on this.  
  
Rodimus wish the cycles would pass more quickly. He was ready to begin his real life. Ready to be turned and take his place as Orion and Megatron’s mate. He was just so very tired of waiting. He had little choice to do just that, though. Neither mech was budging. Turning him early was not something that they were willing to entertain.  
  
Orion looped an arm around his waist, as they walked behind Megatron. Orion’s armour was warm against Rodimus’ plating, it didn’t help matters. Rodimus was nearly panting by the time the slipped inside their rooms. A needy little whine escaped him lip. “Ooorion.”  
  
“Rodimus. We’ve been over this, love. It will be all the sweeter if we wait,” Orion said, pressing a kiss against Rodimus’ cheek-plating.    
  
Megatron just snorted, shooting a look of amusement at both of them.    


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
  
It seemed to Rodimus that things were suddenly moving at warp speed. He was scheduled to go in for his final upgrade at the end of the deca-cycle and he was counting down the kilks. His whole life had been working towards this moment, and suddenly it seemed as though time was crawling at a painfully slow pace.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
  
Orion had fretted the entire time Rodimus was at the medics. The medic, Ratchet, was one that they both trusted, but that did not seem to make Orion any less nervous about Rodimus’ upgrade.  Rodimus was still in the CR tank when they arrived. It didn’t seem to help Orion’s mood any. He touched the glass top, frowning. Rodimus had nearly doubled in height since they brought him home, but not in mass. He was still a lithe little thing, and it worried Orion.  
  
“Don’t pace a hole in my lab,” the medic snorted. “He’ll be out soon enough. I just wanted to make sure all of the upgrades and the protomass I added were all integrated. I’ll bring him out of stasis in a few kliks.”  
  
Orion vented loudly. “You’re sure...”  
  
“He’ll be fine, I promise. Just make sure he gets a good amount of recharge, and up his fuel intake,” Ratchet pronounced, “And for pity’s sake no spark merging until after his follow-up. I want to make sure his spark has completely integrated before he does anything that strenuous.”  
  
Orion sputtered, “I haven’t, I wouldn’t.”  
  
Ratchet snorted, “Right. His interface protocols are online, I’m just saying. Be careful with him. It also shouldn't be too long until his spark is mature, it’s on the verge of it now. Still on the small side, granted.”  
  
Orion nodded, optics fixed on Rodimus’ faceplates. He looked completely different and so achingly the same all at once. He was not entirely sure about the upgrade. The last one had been hard enough. He missed his little ‘bot sometimes. Rodimus had always been a precocious youngling. It seemed like he was such a short time before. The mech in the CR tank though, he was so close to adulthood.  
  
Ratchet watched the vampire for a moment before rolling his optics. He did not agree with what they were doing, on the other hand they were not hurting Rodimus physically. Mentally, he was not so sure, but he knew better than to say something. He had not made it this long by crossing such creatures.  
  
He went to the CR chamber, adjusting the controls to drain the tank and bring Rodimus out of stasis.  
  
“Hey, beautiful,” Orion’s lips quirked up as Rodimus’ optics flickered online.  
  
“Orion.” Rodimus said trying to sit up.  
  
“Careful,” Ratchet huffed, “You aren’t going to be steady for a few kliks, just hold still.”  
  
Rodimus opened his mouth, then shut it, thinking better of it. It was never a good idea to test the medics temper, he had learned that long ago. He was still hard pressed not to squirm. His limbs felt odd. Heavy and ungainly. Finally Ratchet helped him sit up, he still felt like his gyros were spinning, but it was more bearable this time.  
  
“Remember what I said,” Ratchet admonished. “I want to see him back here in a deca-cycle.”    
  
“Yes, I remember,” Orion replied, already leading Rodimus away.  
  
Orion’s optics flicked over Rodimus’ form, the top of the red bot’s helm reached just under Orion’s chin. He probably would not gain any height in his next upgrade, at least that was what Ratchet claimed.  
  
Rodimus reached out first, taking Orion’s hand as they walked together down the darkened street. It was a familiar path. They had raced through here in their vehicle modes countless times. The red bot could not help but be keyed up, he fairly buzzed with ill-repressed energy. “Orion do you think we could...ah...”  
  
Orion snorted, “No, I don’t think we could, sweetspark.” It had been a question the red bot asked him over and over. “Ratchet said no interfacing until he sees you again. It isn’t negotiable.”    
  
Orion didn’t have to look at Rodimus to know he was pouting. His field shouted it out. “We have waited this long. A deca-cycle is not going to kill you.”  
  
“It might,” Rodimus said, leaning into him.  
  
“Typical teenbot. Always in a hurry to get to the end. Enjoy the journey,” Orion teased, leaning in he stole a kiss, leaving Rodimus with a thunderstruck look on his faceplates.  
  
“Ooorion. I’m an adult.” Rodimus whined, which only made Orion laugh.  
  
“Not when you sound like that, scraplet.” Still he smiled, and kissed Rodimus again, with more fervour this time. It left them both panting.  “Soon enough, love, you just have to be patient.”  
  
“Easy for you to say.” Rodimus said, even as he leaned into Orion. “I have been waiting for this my whole life. “Waiting to be with you and Megatron, and just waiting. What if I don’t survive it? What is---”  
  
“Rodimus.” Orion said, pressing a digit to Rodimus’ mouth. “Failure is not an option, my love, it’s not even on the table.”    
  
Rodimus nodded his assent, but all the same he was terrified.  


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
Rodimus onlined his optics, looking up, they had been taking more and more energon from him in the days leading up to this appointed hour. He felt weak, and tired.  “Orion?” His brow plates knitted together,  fear flickering across his face for the briefest moment, before smoothing away again. He tucked it away below the surface, but Orion could still feel the fear hovering just below. It sang down the barely formed bond between them.  
  
“Shhhh...it’s fine sweetspark.” Orion smiled, the tips of his fangs poking out. “It will be fine, I promise.” He leaned in, catching Rodimus’ lip-plates against his own, sharp denta scraping and drawing energon.  
  
Rodimus mewled, arching into him, and clinging. He reached for Orion, needily. “Please.” His body’s temperature spiked, his fans sputtering.  
  
“Not yet, you know we must wait for Megatron. I don’t want to hurt you.” Orion said firmly. “We have discussed this, sweetspark. Patience.” He laughed despite himself, and finally settled on the berth beside Rodimus, and pulled the slighter mech into his arms. His optics flicked up, catching movement from the entryway, and smiled, noting Megatron’s presence. His mate reached out minds touching full of love for a moment before Orion’s attention flicked away and settled back onto Rodimus. He nuzzled into Rodimus’ neck cording, his glossa flicking out, and finally he sank his fangs in.  
  
Rodimus hissed as pain flared through his system before Orion soothed it all away. The bond seem to flare between them, strengthening even as Rodimus’ weakened. His world dimming and nearly going black before Orion finally stopped drinking, slashed his own neck plating and pulled Rodimus close, urging him to drink.  
  
Rodimus pushed at him weakly, fear spiking before the first trickle of energon was forced down his intakes. The trickle grew, and finally Rodimus found the energy to latch on to the line, sucking hard on it until Orion finally pushed him away. Rodimus mewled needily, reaching for Orion even as his limbs became heavy, and he slipped down into stasis.  
  
Orion held him long after he was in recharge, a look of worry on his faceplates. “What if he doesn’t wake?” He finally whispered, catching Megatron’s red optics.  
  
“None of that.” Megatron said, settling on the other side of Rodimus. They both curled around the red mech, and slipped into the own recharge, clinging to him, and each other.  
  
They were still curled about Rodimus when Hadeen finally set the next dark cycle. Orion was up as soon as the day cycles hold released him, and nearly fainted in relief when he realized there was not a grey frame nestled against his own. Rodimus blinked at him dazedly, Optics bright red, a clear advertisement of his hunger.  
  
“Come Rodimus,” Megatron pulled the slight bot to him, opening one of his lines. Rodimus nearly pounced on it leaving any more words unnecessary. “Go feed, Orion, I will take care of him,” Megatron said, petting Rodimus’ plating.  
  
Orion weebled, “Are you sure?”  
  
“Yes, I sure,” Megatron said shaking his head, “Just go, love.”    
  
Orion did not wait a moment longer before he dashed out leaving Rodimus and Megatron alone.  
  
Megatron let Rodimus feed until the pulling became painful to his own lines, and finally pushed the fledgeling away. “Enough.” He said, not moved by the needy little whimper that left Rodimus’ vocalizer.  
  
“I’m still thirsty,” Rodimus complained.  
  
“Orion will return soon enough,” Megatron said, pulling Rodimus to him and kissing him until he whined for an entirely different reason, and pressing himself against Megatron. “Nor will we do that either, little bot. It would make Orion ever so sad if we started without him.”  
  
Rodimus vented softly, much less content to wait than Megatron. His lines burned, his tank still rumbled, but worst still he was running hot.  
  
Megatron held him close, his claws felt chilled against Rodimus’ fevered plating. He was half-drowsing and delirious by the time Orion made his way back to them. Orion took him from Megatron, cradling him against his chest. He only sighed when his new fledgling sank his fangs into his neck cording, and smoothed a hand down Rodimus’ back, crooning to him encouragingly.  
  
Rodimus drank his fill, and then clung to Orion as if he was afraid he would leave again. He wiggled up, pressing their lip plates together, fangs scraping against the soft metal of Orion’s lips. Their temperature climbed, clawtips ghosting across seams, plucking wires until both of their fans were whirling loudly.  
  
“Orion, please,” Rodimus finally said, breaking the silence. His eyes flicked up, watching Megatron watch them. He half expected the elder vampire to join in, but he seemed content to stand back and watch.    
  
“Open up then,” Orion purred against his audial, thumbing the panel which snapped open, revealing the sealed equipment beneath. Nimble fingers danced across the rim of Rodimus’ valve, flitting across the seal. Moisture pulled on the other side, rolling out when Orion raked a claw across it, perforating the seal. Rodimus let out a little pained wine, pushing his hips up against Orion’s hand.  
  
Orion, laughed, shaking his head at Rodimus’ impatience, and knelt between Rodimus’ legs. He vented softly against the dripping valve before his glossa flicked out, tasting. Sweet, so very sweet like the rest of him. Orion hummed, only moving away when Rodimus grabbed one of his helmfins, pulling him up in irritation.  
  
“Always so impatient,” Orion murmured, catching Rodimus’ lips again, he took pity on him this time, lining his spike up, he pushed in. The fell into a rhythm, Rodimus clawing at him and crying out each time he hit the ceiling node. He held Rodimus as he trembled through his first overload and chased after his second until they finally both fell into a heap together. Megatron gathered them up, holding their pinging chassis against his cool ones. They curled into him, their minds drifting into recharge as Hadeen finally rose over the horizon.  


OoOoOoOoOoOo

  
Rodimus took to the life more smoothly that even Orion. Hunting came easy to him, but unlike Orion he had long understood the way such things went. As a mortal he had witnessed it enough and had made himself pay strict attention to what Megatron did and how he handled situations. Something he had always hoped that he was also have the chance to do.  
  
He progressed to a point that he was able to hunt on his own, striking out into the darkened city with neither of his elders. On one such night he found himself in front of the foundling home, of all places. It left his spark beating erratically, but he still stood and looked up at the building the towered about him. He had so many good memories and so many bad.  
“Sparkling, is that you?” a voice came behind him. One he had never forgotten, not after all of the long years that separated them. “Rodimus?” The old ‘bot’s voice asked again, moving close enough to cup Rodimus’ face. “Scrap. It is you.”  
  
Rodimus shook himself from his daze, optics widening. “Kup?”  
  
He found himself pulled into a tight, and surprisingly strong hug, “Ah knew they were wrong. Ah knew ya hadn’t been offlined.” Kup held him as tight as he could as if he was afraid Rodimus might disappear again. “Where have ya been?” he finally asked, pushing Rodimus’ far enough away to look into his optics.  
  
Rodimus opened his mouth, floundering at an answer. “I---I---”    
  
“It’s fine, lad, for now. Ah’m just glad you’re still functionin’,” Kup said, hugging him again. “Ya’re---happy aren’t you?”    
  
Rodimus lips curled into a genuine smile. “More than I ever thought I would be, Kup. So much more.” 


End file.
